


Union Jack

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-04
Updated: 2004-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel calls a phone sex service to get his kinks out, only to discover that the fantasy he desires is actually real. Pointless phone smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Union Jack

“How can I make your fantasies come alive, luv?”

Angel froze at the sound of the man’s voice on the other end of the phone. “Uh, hello?” he said, confused.

“’S your coin, pet, so tell me how you want it,” came the response.

Angel almost hung up right then. This had all been a horrible idea in the first place. Whatever had possessed him to call this number was clearly evil. Because never, in his right mind, would Angel, champion of the weak and helpless, be calling a phone sex service.

Clearly, the strain of soul-enforced celibacy was getting to him. It was the only explanation. Oh, he’d rationalized it when he looked up the number, dialed the digits. After all, it was one of the few sure-fire ways to get some release and not risk that moment of perfect happiness.

It really had seemed innocent enough. Until he was faced with the prospect…

“I-I think I have the wrong number,” he hastily explained. And he did. Somewhere in the endless phone menus, _something_ had gone horribly awry that he now had some British guy on the line, instead of… Well, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. But it hadn’t been _gay_ phone sex.

“Hang up whenever you like, but you’re stuck with the ten-minute charge,” was the disinterested reply.

Angel really was going to hang up then. So maybe this had sort of been his thing back his Angelus days. But he had the soul now, and he wasn’t slave to his demon’s whims any longer.

“What’s your name?”

Even before the words had finished leaving his lips, Angel couldn’t believe he’d said them. He absolutely did _not_ want to…

“What do you want it to be?” the man at the other end countered.

Angel shut his eyes tight. It was suddenly all too clear to him why he hadn’t hung up yet. That lower class British accent, supreme boredom, and infuriating attitude reminded him only too much of a lost lover from his past.

“Spike,” he whispered into the receiver…

* * *

Spike yawned and let out a weary sigh at the blinking red light on the phone beside him on the sarcophagus. He took a moment of pleasure from the fact that, if nothing else, he could at least pirate long distance lines out of the cemetery caretaker’s pockets.

Unfortunately, as proficient at stealing as he was, it wasn’t enough to keep him in blood and smokes indefinitely. Hence, the phone.

Harm had been prattling on one day about how some pals of hers had made a fortune just chatting to horny blokes on the phone. She’d chucked the info aside after day one. But Spike had picked it up, considered it for a moment, and signed on. Money for next to no work and all sorts of silly bints wetting their panties over his accent. Not bad for the recently chipped undead.

But, after hours upon hours of hearing the same giggles and high-pitched squeals of “oh yes”, even Spike’s patience for talking dirty was growing thin. Slipping into sex-god mode, he gave his opening spiel.

“Uh, hello?” a very confused sounding man’s voice responded.

Spike perked up at that. Now this was something interesting, something new. Either a wrong extension, or a nice change-up for the evening. Either way, Spike was milking this for all it was worth. “’S your coin, pet, so tell me how you want it,” he said in the huskiest, sexiest voice he could manage.

A beautiful, lengthy pause at the other end. Spike couldn’t help but chuckle, putting his hand over the mouthpiece so his caller couldn’t hear it.

The other voice turned desperate. “I-I think I have the wrong number.”

“Hang up whenever you like, but you’re stuck with the ten-minute charge,” Spike said in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage. Another lengthy pause. _That’s it, hesitate. You know you want it…_ Spike couldn’t keep the grin from his face now.

“What’s your name?”

 _That’s right. Play with me, pet…_ “What do you want it to be?” he whispered seductively.

“Spike…” came the breathless whisper.

And, with a jerk of surprise, Spike dropped the phone.

“I-I want you to suck me off, Spike…”

It took Spike a moment to scramble for the phone again. For one brief panicked moment, he wondered which of his many associates had tracked him down. Not that he was embarrassed, particularly. It was just that Big Bads did _not_ sell phone sex.

But, before the thought had even crystallized, he placed the voice at the other end. And it was the last vamp he’d ever expected to find calling out for dirty talk. Oh, how the high and mighty had fallen…

“Gotta name there, big boy?” Spike managed to sound somewhat steady. The shock was still thrumming through his body, as was something else, something he hadn’t felt since his grandsire had abandoned him and Dru all those years ago…

“Angel,” came the hoarse whisper.

Spike grinned. “Angel…” He let the name roll over his tongue, filling the word with sensual tingles that he knew would go straight to the other vamp’s cock. He was a little surprised to find that his own body was responding in a similar manner. “Almost too much for me to take in,” Spike practically purred. “Luckily for you, I’ve always had a _big mouth_ …”

* * *

“Oh god,” Angel gasped at the other end. He didn’t know whether the operator was really talented or it was just his own imagination running away with him, but he could almost see Spike’s lips move with that evil smirk, smell the scent of the blond’s arousal, taste the blood and sex in the bedroom air.

“Are you hard for me, Angel?” that tantalizing accent whispered in his ear.

“Yes,” Angel agreed in a husky whisper. His fingers strayed to his aching cock for the first time, and he circled it gently with thumb and forefinger.

“Just the way I like ‘em,” the other voice – _Spike_ , Angel’s mind let him believe – replied. “Bet you taste as good as you look, am I right? Only one way to find out…” A breathy pause. “One. Slow. Lick. _All_ the way down…”

Angel’s fingers, slightly damp with his precum, traced a slow line down the length of his cock, and he gasped at the sensation.

“You like that?” ‘Spike’ replied. “You like the feel of my tongue on your cock while I suck you off like a popsicle?”

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Angel cried out in ecstasy. It had to be that accent, he rationalized as the voice from who-knew-where continued to whisper dirty nothings in his ear. Only one infuriating vampire had ever been able to bring him off this fast. Just seeing that insouciant mouth wrapped around his erection…

A chuckle at the end so eerily like Spike’s that Angel nearly lost it right then. “’m gonna take you all the way in,” that voice purred. “But first I want you to do somethin’ for me.”

“What?” Angel whispered breathlessly.

“I want you to touch that gorgeous ass of yours for me,” the other voice purred. “Run your fingers _slowly_ over the curves before you slide back to that tight hole of yours...”

“Oh yes,” Angel gasped, his hand following the path described, imagining all along that it was Spike touching him, warming fingers along even faster warming flesh.

“Can you feel it?” ‘Spike’ whispered. “How hot you are for me? How badly you want me inside?”

Angel clenched his teeth, still circling his puckered opening but finding himself as reluctant to admit to enjoying himself now as he had been when the real Spike teased him like this.

“No need to pretend with me, luv,” the other voice purred in his ear. “Just us blokes here.”

Angel steeled himself up. Just a fantasy, after all. It would never get out… “Yes,” he agreed. “Inside me, please.”

* * *

 _Now, why didn’t he ever give in that easily when we were face-to-face?_ Spike griped inwardly. Took half the fun out of this little conquest, it did. Of course, things would be quite different if Angel realized he had a piece of the real thing on the other end.

“Wanna be inside you,” Spike purred into the phone, stroking his own cock in harsh rhythm to Angel’s pants. “Make me so hot, knowin’ you’re touching yourself for me.”

“All for you,” Angel gasped, pants in obvious time to thrusts now.

“You wanna hear how ‘m touching myself for you?” Spike inquired huskily.

“Yesss…” came the whispering reply.

“Got my cock in hand right now, strokin’ myself, thinking that ‘s you ‘m touching,” Spike began.

“Oh, god, Spike!” A whimper escaped Angel’s lips, and Spike couldn’t help but grin.

“You like being bottom?” Spike decided to take full advantage of the situation while he could.

A noticeable pause. “Sometimes,” Angel finally confessed, sounding nervous about his admission. “I’ve always wanted to try…”

“Can do whatever you want, luv,” Spike replied, fighting back a hiss as his balls clenched up in anticipation with Angel’s admission. “Whatever you want…” He’d never be this conciliatory if Angel _actually_ knew it was him, of course. But the very thought that Angel had fantasies about taking it from him was enough to make Spike feel more…generous to the older vamp.

“I want to ride you,” Angel responded. “And then I want you to ride me.”

“My pleasure, pet,” Spike responded in a heady whisper. “You ridin’ your fingers for me?”

“Feels so good,” Angel gasped.

“That’s m’boy,” Spike couldn’t resist using Angel’s own old nickname for him. Treading on dangerous ice there, but it just made him that much harder. “Want you to go deeper, curve your fingers just like you’ve got my cock inside you, find that sweet pleasure point and stroke it…oh, So. Slowly.”

“Oh god.”

Spike grinned and shut his eyes, thrusting into his hand hard now. In his darkest fantasies, he’d dared to think of topping his grandsire. Ramming in hard and evoking whimpers of pleasure and pain. Make Angelus enjoy it the way _he’d_ been made to like it. Fitting punishment. Fitting pleasure.

“Oh god, oh god…”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Spike let himself fall back into the fantasy. “Hold me deep inside you, so tight…”

“No, oh god.”

Spike belatedly realized the exclamations weren’t due to pleasure, and it ripped him out of his happy fantasyland. “Somethin’ wrong, pet?” he asked, confused and a bit putout that he hadn’t gotten to come.

“Be quiet!” came the hissing response. “They can’t catch me!”

* * *

Angel had been well and truly enjoying the image of letting Spike take him up the ass. Such a pretty boy, if only he’d shown a little more respect… But, then, that was where the fantasy came in.

He’d had to lie back on the floor behind his desk to accommodate the position. And, yes, that little twinge of guilt that he was using the office phone for the most _personal_ of reasons did sting in the back of his mind. Guilt was always the best remedy to too much happiness. Not too much guilt this time, though.

 “Want you to go deeper,” Spike-substitute’s voice urged, “curve your fingers just like you’ve got my cock inside you, find that sweet pleasure point and stroke it…oh, So. Slowly.”

“Oh god,” Angel moaned in delight.

And that was when he heard in the lock of the office door. The man on the other end was making pleasurable noises, but Angel just froze stock-still in horror.

“Oh god, oh god,” Angel sat up in sudden alarm, removing his fingers from his ass hastily.

“Yeah, that’s it. Hold me deep inside you, so tight…”

Shit. The other guy had no clue what was happening. “No, oh god,” Angel quickly clarified, looking around in a desperate search for some place to go. But the door was the only way out, and he already hear voices in the hallway, arguing as usual. Cordy and Doyle. Double shit…

 “Somethin’ wrong, pet?” a voice sound from the phone, reminding Angel of his other problem.

“Be quiet!” he hissed, ducking under his desk at the last minute. “They can’t catch me!”

Thankfully, whoever was on the other end seemed to figure out what was going on because he received blissful silence in reply. Well, that and something that sounded suspiciously like muffled laughter. Angel had no time to dwell on it, though, because right then Cordy finally got the door open.

“—must’ve left it here,” she was saying, sounding somewhat annoyed, as if Doyle had just said something to rile her up.

“Sure thing, princess,” the half-demon replied, looking around the office.

Angel curled up into a little ball under the desk, pants around his ankles, and prayed they wouldn’t notice him.

“See?” Cordy announced proudly, producing a sweater from the hook by the door.

“And I suppose you—” Doyle continued. The door slammed, leaving Angel alone once more.

“Close shave there, pet,” ‘Spike’ finally spoke up on the other end of the phone.

Angel gulped and crawled out from under the desk. “Right… Where were we?”

“ _Your_ minutes are just about up,” the voice countered smugly.

Angel swore. “Another ten?” he finally said reluctantly.

* * *

“Your bill,” Spike grinned in a satisfied manner. Finally had the big poof _paying_ for it. “How do you want me?”

Angel gulped. “I think that’s the best sentence I’ve ever heard…”

“Big charmer,” Spike accused softly.

“I want to fuck you up the ass.”

“Oh, and so romantic, too.” Spike rolled his eyes. _This_ was the Angel he remembered. Demanding and full of himself and not at all sweet or anything else that made Spike start to feel things he bloody well never would let himself.

Angel snorted. “You sound just like him,” he said sourly, before turning demanding once more. “Now, I want your ass, boy.”

“Might be too tight to fit you.”

A groan at the other end. Angel was obviously already stroking himself off. So predicable. Spike could’ve gotten him off with his eyes closed. Which, actually, he proceeded to do. No harm in a little self-penetration as long as his grandsire didn’t know it was him doing it, right?

“’m gonna take you inside, luv,” he whispered. “ _All_ the way up to the hilt…”

* * *

Angel groaned and wrapped his fist around his cock, squeezing tight as he stroked himself. “Such a good boy, so eager to please…” he grunted in time with his thrusts.

Memories flashed behind his eyes. Countless punishments, mind-fucks, and fucks of a very different kind. Spike chained to the bed, moaning despite himself as Angelus pounded his ass hard. Soft whimpers as Spike willingly rode him that one autumn in Paris.

So tight, so good, so…

“Fuck, William!” Angel roared as he came…

* * *

There was a little secret that Spike would never, ever admit. Especially to Angelus. Namely, as bloody or painful or humiliating or even, occasionally, gentle as it got, he really liked handing the reigns over to someone else. Just giving in and letting the pleasure wash over him.

And, even though Angel was hours away, when Spike’s fingers thrust against his prostate, he came from the pure abandonment, loss of control… The next best thing to having his grandsire there beside him.

“Liam, _yes_!” he cried out as he came hard…

* * *

And Angel froze, having just recovered himself enough that rational thought was starting to return. “Spike?” he asked in disbelief, clutching the receiver tightly in one hand.

“Mmm…yeah, pet?” a lazy, satisfied voice answered him. Husky from orgasm.

And Angel couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before. So caught up in the fantasy that he’d just thought he was imagining all the similarities. Or so he tried to convince himself. Because, really, how could he possibly just have gotten phone from Spike and not even realized it?

“That’s really you, isn’t it, boy?” he demanded harshly.

A little yelp at the other end. _Busted…_ “I’m whoever you want me to be,” Spike made a truly horrible attempt at faking an American accent.

Angel just rolled his eyes. “I know it’s you, _William_ ,” he said pointedly. “Quit playing your games, or I’ll come down to Sunnydale and fuck you for real this time.”

An uncomfortable pause. “That a promise then, Peaches?”

Angel gaped in disbelief.

And the dial tone rang through the office.

* * *

The next night, Spike awoke with a yawn and fumbled for the ringing phone. No caped crusader had leapt down upon him last night, much to his relief (disappointment?). But one small part of him couldn’t help but hope that a certain vampire would be on the other end of the line.

“How can I make your fantasies come alive, luv?” he purred seductively.

“Oh my god, I _love_ your accent!” came a girlish giggle.

Spike sighed and resigned himself to his sacred duty of making every bint that called his way come harder than she ever had before in her life. He couldn’t help but grin at that. Oh, he was _good_ …

However, before he could work his charm on this latest chit, a loud bang signaled an intruder entering his crypt. Rolling his eyes, he turned around to see…

“Thought you’d get away that easily, did you, boy?” Angel growled, slamming the door closed behind him with a bang.

Spike gulped. “W-What are you…?” he began.

“Took me a while with the dawn, but I tracked you down,” Angel retorted, hidden menace in his words. “Did you honestly think I’d let you get away with that little trick you pulled?” he inquired, the threat behind his voice much more Angelus than his souled counterpart.

Sitting up defensively, Spike pointed an angry finger. “Oi! You called me! I just provided the service you,” he couldn’t help but snicker, “ _paid_ for…”

Eyes flashing yellow, Angel lunged forward, caught Spike by the front of the shirt and lifted him up so that the two of them were nose-to-nose. “Looks like you need to be taught another lesson.”

Spike’s body thrummed with the implication, but he hid it. “Think you can scare me?” he retorted sarcastically, looking Angel up and down and indicating all too clearly that he wasn’t impressed. “Soddin’ poofter.”

Angel growled…

“Uh, hello?” a voice sounded from the phone. “I’m, like, paying for this!”

Angrily, Angel snatched the receiver from Spike’s hands. “My boy’s busy getting the fucking of his life,” he growled before slamming it down and leaving the two of them, alone, in the crypt.

A slow grin spread across Spike’s face at Angel’s possessiveness. “Poof,” he accused.

Angel grinned wickedly. “And you’re about to learn just how much you like it,” he informed Spike.

And did.


End file.
